


Trust Your Instincts

by DeannaWinchester242



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beware of Divergence from the Tags, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Nickroe - Freeform, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Possible Hurt/Comfort, Triggers, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeannaWinchester242/pseuds/DeannaWinchester242
Summary: The typical adventures in the life of a Grimm/Blutbad friendship, adventures that really aren't typical at all. Adventures that can sometimes be absolutely ridiculous (especially when non-platonic thoughts begin to crop up). Oh well, Nick and Monroe have gotten used to weird by now...haven't they?





	1. Ein Schlechter Tag

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, you lovely person! I want to start off by thanking you for even opening this story-- you're the reason we writers continue to write even though we (most of us, at least; I can't speak for everyone, I suppose) aren't paid, dear. You're a gift. Furthermore, this is my first post on here, so hopefully you all can be patient with me as I get my sea legs. I do apologize greatly for any unoriginal ideas here; you're sick of tropes, we all know it, but we do it anyways because it makes us smile. Now, please enjoy this little drabble, and have a lovely day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick has a not-so-great week at work. Monroe has a couch, a television, and an excess of free time, and accepts wine as payment for his company and witty remarks. It's a rather small price to pay for a little comfort, in Nick's humble opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ein Schlechter Tag- hopefully I'm not wrong in its translation to "A Bad Day." I appreciate chapter titles, but for whatever reason cannot come up with anything original or creative even after writing the whole chapter. So, an easy solution is to just not use chapter titles, or make them seem like more effort was put into them than there actually was. I'm shamelessly lazy and uncreative, so please don't judge me too harshly for that.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy trying to figure out her reasoning, you know,” Hank says matter-of-factly as he pulls his jacket off the back of his chair. He’s been down that road far too many times to know exactly how it ends, and it’s never with the cop going home happy to his partner with a smile on his face. No, it never satisfies them, but maybe that’s what’s so damn compelling. It’s like a dog with a tail it can never catch, or a toy it can never quite seem to wear down or break. Endless hours of misery and intrigue. What, you aren’t envious?

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that. But the girl’s _dead_ , Hank. Don’t you want to know why?” Nick glances up at him, and for a moment, Hank finds himself really missing that wide-eyed innocence that his partner still seems to have despite being on the force for years. “She didn’t seem suicidal to anyone, and she looked completely well-adjusted and happy to everyone in her life. It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think? I mean, look at this picture. Does that look like the face of the girl knowing that she’s going to hang herself?” Holding up the picture taken just hours before the young girl’s death, it clearly showed her smiling next to her boyfriend at a birthday party for their mutual friend.

“Alright, fine, she doesn’t look depressed. But she could be faking, man, that happens. Or maybe there were drugs in her system,” Hank shrugs on his jacket and frowns softly. “Get some sleep, Nick. I’ll see you in the morning.” He pats Nick’s shoulder lightly before leaving the station, only really able to hope that his partner would follow his advice; Nick was too stubborn to expect anything else, as most cops are.

Eventually, though, he does go home. Getting back to the house past midnight is no strange occurrence in the Burkhardt-Silverton household, but Nick coming home to an empty house is beyond worrying. He looks around the house and calls for Juliette, only to find a note on the fridge from Juliette herself mentioning a spur of the moment visit with her family because of a sudden urge to leave Portland for a few days. It wasn’t that their relationship is horrible at the moment, but Nick knew that it was hitting the skids, and it was only a matter of time until someone had to walk away, or he had to tell the truth. A truth so crazy that she might still leave even if she finds out about it, so Nick understandably doesn’t really think it’s worth the risk, even if he still wants her to stay with him. He wants to tell her the truth, but he knows he can’t without a reasonable explanation so she could understand better and her brain wouldn’t ‘turn to mush,’ at least according to what Monroe told him of the dangers. 

After finding the note on the fridge, he sighs and sets his keys on the table, making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and drinking some warm milk like his Aunt Marie used to make for him when he couldn’t get to sleep. He eats his snack with an over-enthusiastic game show host to keep him company, cleaning up after himself once he’s done and going to bed with the intention of just showering in the morning. His day feels strangely empty without anyone in the house or having any contact with Monroe, but he knows that there will most certainly be a case in the near future that changes that. Of course, seeing a seventeen-year old hanging from the ceiling of a public restroom hadn’t exactly made his day. Before he drifts off into a restless sleep, he makes a promise to himself to be there for the mother when she came in to see the body the following day.

He purposely wakes up early the next morning, quickly showering and getting himself ready for work before leaving the house with half a bagel still in his mouth. He calls up Hank halfway there and tells him he’s going to be a bit late due to a trip to the morgue. Next, he calls the mother, asking her to meet him there for the confirmation of death on her daughter. He waits for the older woman in the parking lot, trying to be as friendly and helpful as possible even though they know that there’s an incredibly good chance that her dead daughter is laying on a slab just beyond those doors. 

He walks into the building with her, flashing a weak smile in Harper’s direction and explaining the situation as he hands a tissue to the grieving mother, who is already in tears. The charismatic coroner becomes somber the moment he mentions the case, hating when she saw young people on the slab. She leads them back into the actual morgue, walking over to the table where the girl had been lying all night. “Are you ready, ma’am?” Harper asks, her attention focused on the mother. The body isn't all that gruesome, but seeing a dead child, let alone your dead child, is horrifying regardless.

“As ready as I can be,” the woman bravely nods, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. “Whenever you're ready.”

The moment Harper pulls the sheet away from the girl’s face, everyone in the room knows that it is, in fact, Chelsea Gregory. Her mother, Lisa, falls apart at the sight of her dead daughter and clings to Nick, using him for support as she covers her mouth with a tissue and sobs into his shoulder. He returns the embrace in a supportive gesture, trying to comfort her even though he knows that there's nothing he can do to help her now. It was a clear suicide, with no reason or evidence for foul play. He leaves the morgue about half an hour later once she had calmed down enough to be able to drive herself home.

Now, he could really use that drink he’d denied himself the night before. Hank notices immediately the state his partner is in and sighs, shaking his head. “Next of kin notification?” 

The younger detective sits down at his desk, fiddling with a pen he had left out as he speaks, “Confirmation of death with the mother. Turns out that there actually were drugs in her system, just not the kind we were thinking. She was seeing a therapist for her anxiety, and the meds he gave her kept her calm, but they made her miserable and she didn't want to feel like she was wasting her parents’ money, so she kept taking them and putting on a brave face,” he explains miserably. 

“Sounds like a good kid,” his partner nods, clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “That stuff happens, though. Too damn much, in my opinion, but that's the way it goes. Even if we don't like it.” 

“Especially if we don’t like it, you mean,” Wu interrupted, waving the manilla file in his hands in front of the detectives. “Cheer up, I’ve got a nice, neat homicide for you. After that, you have paperwork, and lots of it. But, something tells me the Captain is gonna want you on this one.” 

“Well, what’s so important that the Captain himself wants us on it?” Nick challenges as he takes the file, waiting for the Sergeant to explain the case to them. There are another few quiet days like this, filled with a mix of interrogations, paperwork, and more paperwork, until Nick is finally cleared for real duty instead of just being stuck at his desk after his brief hospital stay. To be fair, though, a majority of his job involves him filling out paperwork, so it isn’t as if he’s not used to being chained to a desk all day. 

Of course, his first time back out in the field with his partner ends in both of them almost getting killed. At this point, he can’t say that he’s really surprised, but it’s rare in a chase like that for any perp to actually get away like their suspect did; on foot. They both put in enough hours at the gym to ensure that situations like this are less likely to happen, but when Nick catches a glimpse of long hair and an animal-like face during the chase, he realizes that it isn’t exactly an even match. They call in the incident, still breathing heavily as they make their way back to Hank’s car before driving back to the station to run the suspect’s prints from a flashlight he had been holding. Surprisingly, they come up with plenty of information and actually get to go home on time after putting out an APB for his arrest just so they can actually talk to him.

Nick, of course, decides to make a short day a long one, and stays in the trailer researching well after work is actually over. When he finally comes home only to discover Juliette waiting for him, his mood improves greatly. The night only gets better after they cook a rather nice dinner together, making it a very romantic, and ultimately very active night. 

When they’re lying in bed together, just listening to each other’s breathing as Nick combs his fingers through Juliette’s hair, she finally says something that really makes him feel good about their relationship for the first time in months. “I’m glad we’re both here,” she whispers, just softly enough for him to know that she’s falling asleep. “I’m glad we’re safe.”

The soft smile that graces Nick’s lips as he starts drifting off as well is nothing short of hopeful. “Me too.” He stays silent for a few more moments, and just as he closes his eyes, he mumbles, “I love you.” He doesn’t hear her reply, but he knows she means it even if she doesn’t say it.

That confidence in their relationship wavers a few weeks later, when Nick is almost killed by Monroe’s side in the gladiator ring and Juliette can’t bring herself to look surprised or interested when Nick apologizes for being late. 

It starts shaking in its boots another two weeks after that. When Nick heard her say that she wasn’t sure if she could stay with him if it continued being so dangerous. Of course, Ariel and her father were mostly to blame for that, but really, being a Grimm wasn’t exactly like wearing psycho-dragon repellant (or any wesen, really). He knows that even if it was inadvertent and completely unintentional, putting her at risk like this is his fault when he boiled the situation down to its simplest form.

The confidence from a month ago crumbles entirely when Nick comes home to his girlfriend of three years packing her bags. He thinks of pleading with her, of lying and saying that he can somehow promise that she wouldn’t be in danger anymore, but he knows that he can’t, and that she would never believe it anyways. Instead, he just starts to help her pack everything that she brought with her into their little house, including a few personal items that they have bought together and Nick just can’t bear to keep now that she’s leaving. They hardly talk about the breakup, just silently packing boxes and bags. Nick looks up once everything is packed into her car, smiling gently at her even though this isn’t the happiest occasion. 

“There’s no hard feelings, you know. I get it. I’m glad you’re making the call that’s best for you,” he says lightheartedly, not wanting to make her feel guilty in any way. She returns that sad but kind smile and nods as she hugs him goodbye, most likely for the last time. 

“Good luck, Nick. I hope you find someone that loves you enough to put up with all of this,” she kisses his cheek as she pulls away, climbing into her car. They promise that they have no hard feelings and they’ll see each other around before she closes the door, watching him wave slightly in her rearview mirror as she pulls out of the driveway. He sighs deeply, heading inside to take a hot shower and call Monroe to see if he was busy. Luckily, it was post-dinner and pre-cello, so when Nick arrives with a bottle of wine, he thankfully isn’t disturbing him. 

“Did that dämonfeuer give you brain damage or something? You never call before you come over here.” Monroe looks more annoyed than concerned when he lets the Grimm into his house for the umpteenth time, but Nick knows him well enough by now that it’s just the opposite. He may appear grouchy at first, but really, they both know that Nick has a way of worming his way through the chinks in Monroe’s armor - usually with the help of some sort of bribe, but he gets it done nonetheless. 

Nick simply gives the bottle of wine in his hand a tiny shake and raises his eyebrows. “I brought wine without being asked and I didn’t interrupt anything. Are you really gonna complain?” He doesn’t really feel like explaining too much, but it generally doesn’t take Monroe very long to notice anything. Nick suspects that has something to do with being a blutbad, or maybe just an observant friend. 

*****

After a few glasses of wine and a full two hour movie, Nick is loose enough to tell Monroe what happened with Juliette. It’s a nice, buzzed sort of relaxation, but with no work in the morning unless he gets randomly called in, he isn't worried about being a little tipsy. 

“So, we’re on speaking terms, but she can't be with me anymore. I'm just glad she's safe,” Nick sighs, taking a sip of his wine before setting his glass down. “And I think I'm gonna quit while I'm still mostly sober - I still need to drive home.” 

Monroe’s understanding and sympathetic looks and comments throughout the night do little to quell the affection Nick feels for him, especially with how much he's been putting up with the persistent (and frankly, probably annoying) Grimm coming to his door all the time. But, he doesn't seem to mind, finishing off his own glass and setting it on the coffee table nearest to him. “Well, drinks are on you again next time,” he teased, “You still owe me about a million.” 

Nick’s laugh at that is short, but sounds genuine and the tiniest bit relieved. “Yeah, I know I do. I'll make it up to you somehow. It's the little things, right?” He asks as he stands, sighing softly and wobbling just the slightest bit. Apparently, he’s had more to drink than he thought. He brushes it off, though, pulling his keys out of his pocket and smiling appreciatively at Monroe. “Thanks again for having me over. I really appreciate not getting kicked out.”

Monroe shrugs in response, watching Nick warily when he starts to sway. “It’s not too much trouble. But I don’t think you should be driving anywhere right now.” He says, sounding more concerned than he means to let on. “C’mon, I have a spare room. It’s the least I can do after the day you’ve had.”

“Alright, if it’s not gonna put you out too much,” Nick concedes, realizing just how tipsy he is when he walks towards the door so he can get the clean set of clothes he keeps in his car. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Once they both meet up again at the room at the top of the stairs (Monroe just having made the bed and Nick with his emergency overnight bag in hand), Nick sets his things down on a chair and offers a soft smile up at Monroe. He must be even more drunk than he thought, because for a moment, it seems like Monroe’s eyes flicker down to his lips. Then, as soon as the space between them starts to get thick with tension, Monroe takes a step back with a warm smile of his own. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be up at six, so you can take a shower anytime before then or after seven-thirty.” 

“Right, pilates and all that. Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well,” he hums, walking over to the bed and getting it ready for him to just crawl into. He then picks up his clothes again, changing in the bathroom after Monroe wishes him the same and heads towards his own room. Nick quickly gets changed, thankfully having a travel toothbrush and other toiletries in his bag for late nights at the office, or those occasional times when he spends the night at Hank’s house.

As he settles into bed a few minutes later, he thinks over the events of the past few months. Really, being a Grimm has been a blessing and a curse so far, as it’s cost him his girlfriend and a normal life. But, he probably gave that up years ago, when he became a cop. So, instead of worrying about what could have been, he slowly drifts off into a surprisingly deep sleep. A good night’s rest is just what he needs, and he’s going to get it tonight. (Of course, the misting of lavender Monroe seems to have sprayed on the sheets doesn’t hurt his chances. Is the guy really that intent on being a good host, or is he just getting soft on Nick?)

The next day, Nick really decides that he hates his job. Not that he doesn’t get a lot of satisfaction from helping people and saving lives (and don’t even get him started on the adrenaline rushes), but skipping out on Monroe just after breakfast isn’t something he had in mind. Said blutbad doesn’t seem to be too upset when he gets the call, of course, but Nick still feels a little guilty after the great food he had just eaten. 

He goes to work, and for the first time in a long time doesn’t really worry about getting shot. He has no one depending on him at home for now, and while it hurts, he’ll get over it eventually. Right now, he’s just going to do his best to learn how to be single and adjust to life being a little less complicated. Unfortunately for that promise to himself, he made it before he had more than one friend in the wesen world. And the arrival of a certain fuchsbau makes things better, but ultimately much more complicated than Nick probably ever wanted.

(But who ever said certain complications weren't fun?)


	2. Der  Anpassungszeitraum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, just a normal day. Nick is no longer worried about ruining his relationship, and it's a relief to know that less people are counting on him now that he doesn't have a significant other living with him anymore. Monroe gets to wind down as well. All is well - for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Der Anpassungzeitraum - Hopefully translates to "The Adjustment Period," instead of some rude phrase in German. I believe this is going to be a pattern, unless someone really schools me on how this is upsetting or bothersome to them. Then, of course, I'll stop shittily and clumsily trying to translate phrases and words into another language via Google Translate over and over again. Meanwhile, let me know if you enjoy the story! I love seeing the Kudos from the 9 of you (so far) and I really can't wait until people start really commenting and telling me what they enjoy about the story! Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a lovely day <3

Getting used to life without Juliette really isn’t as hard as Nick ever imagined. While they didn’t leave things on bad terms, per say, they were so distant when she left that it was almost the same as living alone. He’s been dedicating more time to his work and friends now without the additional stress, and after three weeks, life has been pretty good to him.It hasn't been ridiculously busy until a few days ago, when Hank’s life was put in danger by a certain hexenbiest.

 

Thankfully, the issue was taken care of shockingly easily  (although it was fairly painful for Nick) and his partner is healthy enough to be at work with him the next day. In Hank’s opinion, Nick has been acting a bit odd in the past few days, but until recently, he was stumped on what the issue could be. He knows about his breakup with Juliette, but there's no way that it's the only thing distracting his friend. He hasn't been hopelessly distracted, of course, but Hank has taken notice of the way the younger detective will zone out and get a dazed look on his face for a while, even in the middle of conversations. He may be getting old, but he still hopes, deep down, and one of his many hopes is to see Nick fall for someone and have them feel the same. He can't help but meddle, really. Especially not when it comes to something so personal and important. So, it doesn't come as a surprise when he has the sudden urge to question Nick about his suspicions and theories.

 

“So, that clock guy’s been helping you out with a lot of stuff, huh?” He decides to ask instead of directly asking if that’s who has been making his partner so gooey and dopey at times. At Nick’s confused hum, Hank knows he's onto something.

 

Nick looks up from the papers he's signing, raising his eyebrows at Hank, “Yeah, I guess so. Why, do you need a watch repaired or something?” He tilts his head, so horribly innocent looking, and Hank can't help but chuckle to himself. Not at Nick’s expense, of course, but still. It's a pretty dramatic change from the assertive attitude he often exudes at work.

 

“Nope, no watch,” he chuckles, smiling as he glances back at the paperwork and fills out a few blank spots. “Just wondering what’s got you so chipper lately. You're not already seeing somebody else, are you?”

 

Nick, cocking a brow at that, huffs a soft laugh and shakes his head. “Nope, no one yet. I don’t think I’m dating anyone again for a long time. Why'd you bring Monroe up?” He asks curiously, knowing what Hank is referring to but hoping that he hasn't been that obvious.

 

Nick has a well-known bad habit about jumping into relationships or crushes too soon, which is why Hank knows that he has an interest in men in the first place. Let's just say that a fling with a fellow (very much male) officer as a rookie doesn't escape the eye of a seasoned detective that can spot attraction a mile away thanks to four failed marriages. Also, a drunk round of adult truth or dare revealed that Nick’s dorky college roommate had been a nice rebound after his high school girlfriend dumped him.

 

“Well, he's kind of your type, isn't he?” Hank teases, though there is a little truth behind the joke. He doesn’t miss the way Nick’s cheeks pink just the slightest bit when he looks at his partner.

 

“C’mon, Hank, it’s not like that. We’re just friends. Even if we weren’t, I’m pretty sure he’s straight,” Nick dismisses the thought with little consideration for how it would feel if Monroe did start seeing someone in the near future. It would probably hurt like hell, and that’s something Nick doesn’t want to think about. “Don’t you have some paperwork you need to fill out?” He instead asks, wanting to change the subject so they wouldn’t keep talking about the minor crush he might have on his friend.

 

Hank laughs but lets the issue go for now, just working on their paperwork for a while until he and Nick are called in on a double homicide. It interrupts their banter, and, thankfully for Nick, keeps his partner from asking any more questions about his love life.

 

Seeing a young couple with claw marks all over them in the middle of the forest is upsetting, but really nothing out of the ordinary in Portland. What is unusual, however, is seeing something that looked like a fang embedded in the exposed bone of the young man’s arm. It supposedly wasn't like any tooth of the average culprits of animal attacks in the woods, and it was not the only reason homicide had been called in. There were several important things missing from the hikers’ packs, and they had not been torn or chewed open. Aside from the brutal nature of their deaths, there was really nothing to suggest that they had been killed by any animal, wild or otherwise.

 

“Looks like you’ve got another weird one. I don't envy you,” Sergeant Wu attempts to lighten the mood, as he always does, but Nick doesn't can't manage to crack a smile as he pulls the young man’s wallet out of his pocket carefully.

 

Upon seeing that he hadn't even turned twenty-one yet, he sighs and shakes his head.

 

“I don't envy us either,” Hank responds, inspecting the bodies with his partner as Wu walks away and the fog starts to roll over the forest, lifting from the ground instead of covering the ground. It was going to be a long day, especially since it was barely sunrise. Hopefully it wouldn't be an equally long night, but only time will tell.

 

*****

 

What better way to start off a relatively calm day than to see your best friend’s ex while grocery shopping? It’s quite the surprise to Monroe, seeing her so… calm. Even though Nick said they were on good terms, it seemed that sometimes he made things out to be less important than they actually were. Being a loyal friend, he does his best to avoid her as well as any kind of awkward tension there would be between them. Of course, with his luck, she notices him. Regardless of his obvious discomfort, she starts to walk over to him as he steps away from the stand full of fresh green beans.

 

“Hi, Monroe. It’s good to see you,” Juliette smiles, hanging her basket in the crook of her arm and leaning it on her hip, her stance obviously conveying that she wants to have a conversation that was going to be at the minimum three or four minutes long. Probably longer, based on the look she’s sending Monroe’s way. “How are you?”

 

A light, nervous laugh slips out against his will as a coping mechanism as he moves his produce into his cart, deciding to walk and shop with her as they talk so they don’t have to stand there doing nothing. “Really good, actually. Work has been good; I just got this nineteenth century piece from Germany in pristine condition. It’s kind of amazing, actually, that the family has kept it this long and looking this perfect. The only problem is, some inner part of the mechanism isn’t working and it stopped the clock a few days ago,” he says eagerly, making sure to walk at a pace that wouldn’t force her to run to keep up with his long strides. “And you?” He asks, glancing back at her after picking up a bag and filling it with a few zucchini for the dinner he’s been planning for himself for close to a week now. God, he needs to get out more.

 

“Oh, things are good at work. I helped deliver something like five litters of puppies today,” she laughs.

 

‘Well, obviously,’ Monroe thinks to himself. He can smell the dogs all over her.

 

“But, personally?” She smiles almost sadly, shrugging one shoulder at the mildly concerned look Monroe gives her. “I’ve been pretty good. Living alone is...different, but I have my own place now, and things are looking up. Thanks to you, anyways. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you and Nick.”

 

His face brightens, both metaphorically and literally, at that statement. He had literally saved a life - selflessly, and at his own peril, at that. Maybe he’s changed more than he thought, but he’s pretty sure it’s for the better. Of course, with all the cases he’s helped on, he knew that he had saved lives, but Juliette was the first person to acknowledge it and really embody those innocent lives. Nick and Rosalee excluded, for obvious reasons. They’re friends now, and when it comes to friends, even just casual drinking buddies, Monroe is the sort of man that believes in true loyalty, which includes killing or dying for certain people that you love.

 

Shaking himself out of his little fog, he smiles at her gingerly and realizes that he wants more of that feeling. Plus, he’s heard wonderful things about the woman standing in front of him. Why wouldn’t he want to get to know her better?

 

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be free for coffee sometime, would you?”

 

*****

 

Nick’s day had been busy, to say the least. Now, though, nursing a beer and a bit of a headache, he was realizing that he was still going to need help on this case, even if it is one of the most simple, straightforward ones involving wesen he’s had in a long while.

 

Just when he’s thinking about getting reinforcements in the form of poring through the books, his phone rings. He turns off whatever movie is on and picks up immediately when his caller ID reads a very familiar name. “Monroe, hey. Is everything okay?” He asks, prepared to get up in case something was somehow wrong on the other end of that call.

 

“What? Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just checking in. It’s kinda rare that you don’t drop by in the middle of the night for a couple days, you know?” Monroe kids on the other end, a small but sincere smile in his voice. “So, what’s been going on?”

 

Nick smiles at hearing from Monroe just to hear from him, and proceeds to explain the finding of the bodies and their description. “So, we started talking with the families, and I saw them woge. It was no big deal, at first. Hank didn’t see their reactions, or anything, but the families had to be complete opposites of each other,” he continues, putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys off the hook. “And I was just about to hit the books to see if I could find anything useful. Did you wanna come with?”

 

Monroe’s answer is unsurprising, as always, even though he attempts nonchalance in his answer. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do. See you in a bit?” He asks, smiling and grabbing his keys at the sound of Nick’s affirmative answer before they both say goodbye. It’s no surprise that it’s a long night after that, ultimately ending in the killer of the forbidden lovers being captured and appropriately tried for his crimes against his sister and brother-in-law. Monroe feels that same satisfaction again at knowing he’s doing the right thing, and all is well in his world - in Europe, there’s trouble brewing surrounding his best friend; trouble that may get him killed if he isn’t careful.

 

*****

 

That Friday, when Monroe has finished all his repair work and Juliette has the day off, they have their friend date. It’s a comfortable chat, the two of them getting to truly get to know each other in a natural way. Without worrying about Nick or being in a life or death situation, they really end up enjoying each other’s company. He can see exactly why Nick had fallen for her, and he feels bad for his friend, but in a different time, he may have been attracted to her as well. But really, he isn't. He’s starting to see her as more as a friend than an acquaintance, so he’ll have to ask if it's alright to continue with this friendship with her. It has to wait or a week or two, but Nick ultimately gives his approval. Maybe he needs her in his life still, but they all know that it's too dangerous for them to be romantically involved now.

 

That really doesn't matter, though. All that matters is that they've all gotten through the adjustment period, unscathed.


	3. Der Mustige des Herzens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Der Mustige des Herzens," or "The Brave of Heart," is a fairly self-explanatory title once you read the chapter, my dear Wesen friends. Find out why as you read. (Also, I apologize sincerely for the hiatus, this school year has been hectic. But I'm back now, and I'm going to do my best to upload regularly over the summer). It's extra long as a gift (I hope) and you get to pray for these sweet, confused babes for a little while longer. Honestly, completely restarting a chapter was frustrating as hell but I wanted the best for you guys, so if I overdid it just know that I did so out of love for you and for Nick and Monroe. And Hank. I really love Hank a lot. Anyway, I'll see you soon for sure. Thanks for reading, loves!

Arnold Rosarat's cowardice is well founded, and tightly bound to reality. In centuries past, Hässlichen had been proven to be bullies who especially picked on Eisbibers and other races they deemed "weaker" than themselves; so, while seeing one of his own kind being drowned in cement was horrifying and foreign to him personally, it's nothing new between the two species. True to nature, his reaction is to run, and no one can really blame him for it. Salvador Butrell, along with all Hässlichen, is certainly not a man to be trifled with 

 

Unfortunately, his decision only really benefits himself, and a killer. He doesn't allow himself to think of that even though he knows it while hiding out at his friend John Oblinger's house. At first, all he really cares about is the fact that he and his friends are safe. Though, a few days later, when John threatens to kick him out, it really puts his mind in the proper perspective. After John gets home from work the next day, Arnold is actually waiting for him in the kitchen with a couple of beers for them both (One already have gone of course; what else will calm his nerves?).

 

"Has Bud already called for the Lodge meeting?" His voice is a little stronger than it had been the night before, more self-assured and full of conviction.

 

John almost seems wary of his friend, but nods as he sets his keys down in the bowl he made for himself at only twenty, when he'd found the most perfect fixer upper in all of Portland. For Eisbibers, it's almost never difficult to determine what crafts you best enjoy or are excellent at, even at a young age.  "Yeah, it's set for tomorrow at eight. The  Grimm is coming. Why do you ask?"

 

"I...I want to come. Just to hear him out," he admits as bravely as possible, trying to be noble even if he isn't yet sure if he's going to come forward and help the Grimm or not. "I can do that without getting killed, I hope." 

 

John's smile comes in, slowly but surely as he takes the beer from his longtime friend. Honestly, he's incredibly proud of even this small step, and he's sure Bud and Nick will also appreciate it. "Yeah, I hope so too."

 

*****

 

Despite the general attitude of the Lodge being completely focused on the negative consequences of Arnold stepping forward, he can't ignore how his actions are affecting others. He wants to be a strong member of his community, and as much as he wants to live long enough to finish his current woodworking project, or finally go on a date with the girl he's been after for nearly a year, and he can't do any of that dead, he also can't do it from inside John's basement. 

 

Once he makes a decision and sticks to it, he almost immediately feels better than he has since the night he first ran to John's house. He calls Bud up and meets him at the police station, where Bud and John introduce Nick and Hank to Arnold, but stay quiet when their friend steps forward to speak.

 

"Hello. My name is Arnold Rosarat, and I'm here with information about the 911 call I made two nights ago. How can I help?" 

 

*****

 

Now that they have Salvador Butrell in custody, it's easy to get Arnold's story and set up a line-up. The moment the men are able to settle in their spots and Arnold points directly to Mr. Butrell, the detectives have absolutely no doubt that they have their man. The Eisbiber himself seems to be absolutely sure that he was the murderous Hässlich he had seen despite how beaten up he was, as well. Relieved and more sure of their instincts now, Hank calls it in to the guards while Nick tanks Arnold quietly for stepping up and helping them deliver justice to the Grozzham family. Robert's bravery won't go to waste now, thanks to them. 

 

"We can get you somewhere safe to stay for a few days, if you want. I'd understand if you were still nervous about going home," Nick's voice is, in fact, understanding, and the fact that a Grimm is being kind to him seems to bolster Arnold's confidence a bit more.

 

"I don't want to have to keep relying on Bud and John...but it isn't safe at home yet." At Nick's nod and intent stare, he continues thoughtfully. "I could stay at the Lodge. The meetings are only every Solstice and Equinox unless there's an emergency. I'll talk to Bud about moving out there tonight."

 

He's only really planning to lay low for another week or two and to go back to work the next day, anyway; there's nothing really brewing in the Wesen community at the moment, anyway, so it should remain empty until the celebration in the Spring. 

 

"I'll help, then. Protecting you from pissed off Hässlichen is the least I can do." The Grimm assures him that he doesn't mind with a smile before Arnold leaves to collect his things and get ready to move temporarily into the Lodge.

 

*****

 

After his shift is over and Hank and Wu go out for their weekly drink, Nick heads over to John's house to meet him and Bud. The latter, of course, somehow ends  up riding with Nick because Arnold and John don't have children and offer to be in more danger - and to be in front. So, slightly less danger than they'd like to admit while trying to be brave. It all turns out well, anyway. Bud likes Nick, even trusts him, so they end up making pleasant, if not slightly awkward, conversation on the way. 

 

"So, have you helped other Wesen before?" Comes about the millionth question coming from the passenger seat of Nick's beat up Toyota. Nick can't honestly find it in himself to be bothered, because he's sure this must have been exactly how he had sounded to Monroe just under a year ago. So, naturally, he tries not to get annoyed while indulging Bud's curiosities. 

 

"Yeah, actually. I've helped a lot, really, but I have two friends that are Wesen now. A Blutbad and a Fuchsbau. And you guys, now, too," he adds as not so much an afterthought, just a possibility he hadn't thought of before. It seems right, though, because Bud seems to be okay with that classification, too. 

 

"Yeah...friends. That sounds about right. Because, well-- you know you can call us when you need it, and the same goes for us. We'll help each other. You might help with tickets, and we can fix stuff around the house for you," Bud adds proudly, knowing that he and his friends are great craftsmen, regardless of their particular species of Wesen not being too high up on the food chain. His babbling gets slightly more out of control from there, but Nick hushes him with no heat or threat, and he quiets right down once he sees that the Grimm is intently watching the rear-view mirror. "I'll call them." He insists, wanting all of them to be on the same page.

 

Once the other Eisbibers are caught up and they arrive at the Lodge, it's a race against time to get Arnold to safety and get back to help Nick face whatever threat is coming their way. Both Bud and John come back and woge in preparation (despite their lack of an intimidating appearance for any other Wesen), but Nick doesn't want them getting hurt. "You need to go protect Arnold. The Lodge isn't totally secure yet." 

 

The two friends share a look before changing back and looking at Nick, even though their bodies are half turned back towards the Lodge the moment he speaks. "Are you sure, Nick? We can stay out here and help." "Yeah, you just say the word, and we'll--" 

 

With something of an amused and fond expression (despite the circumstances), Nick heads towards the Lodge's entrance with nothing more than a crossbow and his gun for protection. "Go." They don't respond or argue, though, just run after him and go underground to protect Arnold and get him settled in. 

 

Once he’s sure that they’re inside and safe, Nick ducks behind a tank across from the entrance, loading his crossbow as he waits for the attackers to enter. He’s shocked when he sees two scythes— a sure sign of reapers; it looks like this was going to be much more challenging than fighting an angry Hässlich or two after all.

 

*****

 

Nick pulls out his phone as he stands over the bodies of the reapers, dialing Monroe's number without really even focusing his eye on the screen. He's just caught his breath and gotten over the fact of how rattled he is 

from the fight when he realizes that Monroe has actually picked up and already talking in a worried tone on the other end. He shakes the thoughts in his head loose before bringing the phone to his ear with a small sigh. “Hey, sorry. Just got something wrapped up here...You remember that lumber yard where the Eisbiber meeting was? I think we talked about it.”

 

“Yeah...is everything okay, man?” Monroe sets his wine glass down as he speaks, and the soft classical music that Nick could hear on the other end at the beginning of the call has been shut off now.

 

“For the most part. I just need you to meet me.”

 

With a soft sigh, Monroe disentangles himself from the blanket on his lap and stands, stretching his now soothed back, which had been aching earlier from spending a long day hunched over at his desk while trying to figure out how to repair one of his favorite clocks. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” He can hear Nick’s pause on the other line as he pulls on his jacket and shoes. “Great...And Monroe? Bring a shovel.”

 

The call ends and the Blutbad can’t help but feel a touch of trepidation as he locks his door and gets into his Beetle, but with all the times Nick has been there for him, the least he can do is return the favor even though they both stopped keeping score a long time ago. This is a real friendship now, with no obligations or owing each other, unless you count switching off whose house they go to when they need to decompress after a long week. Somehow, Monroe has a feeling that they’ll both be needing one of those soon.

 

*****

 

After filling out what feels like miles of paperwork (once again), Nick finally gets to go home. Of course, he suggests that he and Hank go somewhere to hang out, but his partner declines.

 

“Nick, I’ve seen enough of you this week to last me a lifetime. Go home and sleep in your bed instead of on your desk,” he sighs as he takes the last sip of his lukewarm coffee and they walk out of the precinct together. Grimacing, he throws the paper cup away. “First thing Monday, you’re buying me the good shit and breakfast at the donut shop. I insist.”

 

Nick laughs, but he can’t argue with that. The cops at his precinct deserve the best; they’re good people. “Y’know, I think I can find some room in my budget to make that work.” Honestly, he wasn’t lying. One of the only reasons he could still afford the mortgage on his house without Juliette’s hefty salary was because he had no car payment on his basically ancient Toyota. “See you Monday?” “Yeah, I’m gonna sleep ‘til then.” They say their goodbyes and go off to their respective cars, leaving for the day.

 

Nick never quite knows what to expect when he goes home for the day, but what he finds on his doorstep is the furthest thing from what he expects. For one thing, it’s completely covered in baskets and what look to be thank you letters. As he gets up onto the step, he sees that the mystery gift-givers have been kind enough to at least form a path so he’s allowed to make his way to his front door with no problem. To his pleasant surprise, that’s fixed as well with a note attached to the door from Bud that he grabs and reads as he walks inside.

 

‘Dear Nick- Please accept these gifts from the whole Eisbiber community for everything you’ve done to help us (and especially Arnold) over the past week. Also, I noticed your door was a little scratched up and the lock was loose, so I just tightened a few screws and buffed those out for you. Don’t hesitate to call if you ever need anything, really. Phoebe and the kids were really excited to make you another pie. I hope your Blutbad friend can enjoy some of this too, because a good Blutbad needs to be encouraged. Anyway, I’ll probably see you soon. But not too soon. Sincerely, the Wurstner family.’

 

Nick can’t help but smile at the note as he reads it, setting it on the ledge in the entryway before starting to haul everything inside. Suddenly, though, the thought pops into his head to see if Monroe wanted anything from the piles of gifts. He obviously isn’t going to be rude enough to try and return anything, and he really does appreciate the food and baskets even if there’s really too much there for any  one person to eat. Once he’s gotten everything dragged inside and semi-sorted, he texts Monroe with a simple offer of pie and wine; naturally, it has even the Wieder Blutbad running to his home.

 

Just twenty minutes later, he’s lifting a fairly heavy basket up onto the kitchen table when there’s a knock at the door and he groans in frustration. “The door’s open!” He grunts, half expecting both of them to just burst into each other’s houses by now. Finally, as possible help walks through the door, he gets the damn thing up onto the table with a huff of exerted effort. They’re just so awkward and bottom heavy, he has no clue how he would have dealt with them all without Monroe. “I checked through them, then double checked everything but this one. Any meat I found went straight into the fridge, and it was all sealed,” is Nick’s greeting to his friend as he delicately unties the ribbon securing the heaviest parcel. 

 

Monroe, meanwhile, is almost too captivated by an intricately woven blanket slung over the back of the couch and wrapped in a big bow to listen. After taking a look at the wrapping paper-and-envelope-laden carnage on the floor, he takes a few careful steps forward to look at a particular package that called to his olfactory senses the second he stepped in the door. He lifts the fabric covering it only to reveal a freshly baked blueberry pie, still practically warm. When his voice sounds in the mostly quiet kitchen (save for Nick’s calming playlist coming from a speaker in the kitchen, of course), it’s soft and full of awe.

 

“Holy shit…” Such eloquence catches Nick’s attention immediately, eliciting what must have been his first bout of genuine laughter in almost a month.

 

“Yeah...I guess they were really grateful. You get a cut of whatever you want, except for the home brewed beer. We’re saving those for someone’s birthday or something important,” he hums distractedly even though he has given that thought because he doesn’t want to just waste such a thoughtful and carefully constructed gift. As he opens the last basket, he’s sure Monroe will want to dig into it almost more than any of the others. “Wow...I don’t really know if this is a good year, but there’s a few bottles of Napa Valley wine here...even a good looking bottle of white,” he’s a little amazed as he looks over the bottles, impressed to see that one is almost five years old and another is nearly fifteen.

 

Monroe instantly perks up at that, moving to stand behind Nick as he reaches out to take the bottle and get a better look at the label, genuinely impressed. It isn’t a particularly rare bottle, but he’s heard it’s delicious and he’s more than excited to try it. “Well, grab your bottle opener and some glasses. We’re gonna need something to drink if we’re cleaning this disaster up.”

 

Chuckling softly, Nick can’t help but agree so he heads into the kitchen to get exactly what Monroe suggests, while his friend gets to work on unpacking everything and at least getting it set on the table or a counter. They talk while they work, enjoying the wine and each other’s company. In the end, they sort out baskets for a few of their close friends and then stuff to keep for themselves over a couple hours, with some absolutely ridiculous dancing in between. Sure, it’s mostly Nick weaving between the baskets on the floor and swaying to the music, but still technically dancing.

 

It takes close to an hour and a half after Monroe arrives to finally get every single item in order, but once they do they end up collapsing on the couch and just talking. Neither of them are actually drunk, as they finished the bottle together, and now they’re drinking water to avoid a hangover of any sort at Monroe’s insistence.

 

“Really, it’s just...what they did was amazing. I mean, we did our usual thing, dealing with the bad guys and cleaning up the mess, but they...Arnold’s a lot braver than we thought,” Nick muses in soft admiration for the man that helped them put a murderer away. He’s buzzed enough to be a little chatty and more honest, but other than that he’s hardly feeling the alcohol at all - a sign of good wine, probably.

 

Monroe nods, taking a sip of his water with a soft smile. “I’m glad I’m not the only Wesen who can go against their true nature... you have a real way of getting people to like you,” he compliments, genuinely thinking that  his friend’s ability is impressive and likely due to the fact that he’s optimistic and usually sees the best in everyone despite his occupation and status in the Wesen world. Honestly, it is kind of sweet and shows what a good heart Nick has. No wonder he has a soft spot for him.

 

“Well, I try,” Nick sighs. “It doesn’t always work, but I guess that’s why they have detectives in the first place.” He shrugs, adjusting the new quilt they’ve thrown over their laps to combat the spring chill that will make Nick’s home on the colder side for at least another month. The conversation naturally lightens up as they wait until Monroe is either sobered up enough to drive home or too tired to leave. When the Blutbad stands after finally deciding that it’s time to go home, Nick gets up to walk him out, about ready to take a hot shower and crawl into bed anyway. “Thanks for all your help, man. This place would still be a wreck without you.” It’s nothing awkward or overstepping any boundaries, but it’s then that they both seem to mutually realize that it applies not only to Nick’s home, but his career as well. He and Hank wouldn’t have anywhere close to their impressive solve rate without Monroe’s help, and he isn’t even getting a check for it. Somehow, Nick feels that he owes the Blutbad a lot more than the basket he’s taking with him.

 

Monroe, sensing that his friend has managed to fall into a deep hole in his thoughts, just lightly squeezes him in a platonic, round-the-shoulders hug. Something’s telling him that the wine has gotten to Nick more than he’s admitting, even if he isn’t getting all weepy like everyone occasionally does from getting wine drunk. “Well, you annoyed the hell out of me at first, but I’m glad I helped you stay alive this long.”

 

As he releases his friend, though, they keep that same distance apart as they stand in front of the door, neither making a move to make Monroe leave or keep him where he is. Nick is saying something in response, obviously expressing more gratitude and keeping his true hope to give more to himself. Like a dog before a storm, though, he can sense it, and he doesn’t run away for once. Probably from the assistance of the lingering effects of liquid courage, but he has no reason to complain about what happens next.

 

It seems like it’s all at once, but in retrospect both of them will claim that the other was the instigator. With Monroe’s eyes on Nick’s mouth and Nick leaning up imperceptibly until their lips brush, it’s really hard to tell who exactly started it. Once it does start, though, it’s like a wildfire; completely unpredictable and only controlled by what and how quickly it can consume. At first, it’s burning, slightly awkward passion, but once Nick is used to having to reach and Monroe has a hand on his lower back to anchor them, the kiss just flows. Clashing teeth melts into the smooth slide of lips and scrabbling fingers give way to gentle squeezes at movements that send sparks of pleasure shooting up the other’s spine. It’s passionate, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a lot kinder than the last kiss either of them had received. A gentle sigh is breathed through Nick’s nose and softly puffs against the Blutbad’s face after his basket is set down, while Monroe presses Nick’s back against his front door. With a knee sliding between his thighs “unintentionally,” he doesn’t even really notice the contact between them until Nick lets out a soft groan on another sigh breathed into his best friend’s mouth.

 

As the gentle sound is pressed from the Grimm’s throat, they stand on the edge of disaster, not even realizing the chaos about to unfold for them in the next few weeks. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss, but everyone knows that making out with your friends is very likely a recipe for disaster. Though, as usual, the nightmare of the next few weeks about to befall them is as unexpected and confusing as most of the other things in their lives. It’s a little unfair, but being kept on their toes means they’re always ready for anything. Well.../almost/ anything, anyway. Some twists and turns are just too unpredictable to prepare for, even for the brave and pure of heart.


	4. Spürbare Änderungen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spürbare Änderungen -- Noticeable Changes, like the ones we’re all going through all the time, especially right now. Happy Election Day, and belated Halloween to everybody!! If you can vote today (or sometime soon, for my non-American Wesen friends out there), then go do it!! Your voice matters, especially with how nasty politics are these days. Case in point, have you heard about the new Grimm spin-off yet? It hasn’t been titled, but NBC’s working on it right now due to popular demand, and it’s gonna have a female lead! I have a few theories on who, but until it gets closer I’m not gonna pass judgment just yet. Just know that I’m ridiculously excited, you guys. I’ve watched this show since it first came out, so I’m pumped to hear they’re bringing such a brilliant idea (with possibly at least cameos from some familiar faces) back to life. Okay, I’ll cut this off because it’s getting long, but I hope you lovelies are having a fantastic day or night wherever you are!!

Hank has noticed a change in his partner as of late, but the past few days have been entirely too busy to talk about much of anything personal. Today is the day, though, because even Wu has apparently been picking up on how odd their friend has acted lately, which is saying something.

 

Nobody else really interacts with Nick as much as them in the station, and they don’t hang out with the friends he has outside of work, so this is the best and really only way to find anything out. Hank, having bumped into Sasquatch and hired a therapist, is already on edge as it is, so being suspicious of his own partner doesn’t help anything. In fact, it makes him more paranoid that Nick is hiding something, so both of them obviously want to clear up the whole situation and see what’s really going on as soon as possible.

 

*****

 

They don’t get much further than that before Monroe pulls away with red eyes, half ready to Woge just from the intense emotional display. They aren’t breathing heavily, just slow and even - deliberately calm to keep themselves under control, probably. Neither one regrets the kiss, that’s obvious, but it’s clear as Monroe takes a half step back that they had pushed things too hard without even intending it. Looking a little startled, the red rings of his irises fade back to brown as Nick watches him intently, not completely sure of what had just happened. “So, I...I should get home.”

 

Dumbly, Nick nods after pulling his fingers away from his lips, like some damn teenage girl that had just gotten a kiss laid on her by her crush at prom. Which...is exactly their current situation, but that doesn’t matter, because Monroe’s leaving, and for all he knows, he only dates other Blutbaden. He stoops down to pick up the basket, relieved when he sees that the wine is packaged safely so it didn’t break when it thumped to the floor just a minute or two earlier. His cheeks are flushed as he offers Monroe the basket, noting that his friend’s curls are a little more disheveled than usual. He’s unsure whether to be embarrassed or proud of it, honestly, but he’s sure he’ll have plenty of time to think it over in the next few days. He licks his lips as he steps away from the door and Monroe takes his basket. “See you soon, I guess.” For the first time since they met, Nick feels uncertain, not sure how to act or really what to say.

 

As Monroe gravely nods and opens the door, looking slightly dazed still, and Nick can tell that his friend feels the same even if they aren’t verbally communicating it. “Yeah, of course. Call if you need me for anything.” He’s uncharacteristically short, giving Nick a reassuring look that he might have missed if he looked away even for a second before he leaves. Nick, meanwhile, can hardly sleep that night or think about anything else when he does eventually shower.

 

Honestly, he’d wanted that moment to be perfect, if it ever did come along.  Certainly, he doesn’t want to start his weekend off with a kiss that leads to nowhere and no way to vent about it to anyone. Which is exactly why he makes a friend date with Rosalee for as soon as physically possible. There’s seemingly nothing that their Fuschbau can’t fix, from his experience.

 

*****

 

When Nick arrives at work the following Wednesday after he started acting really strange and they don’t actually have a case for once, Hank figures he can take advantage of their lack of work. He’d gotten to work early in anticipation of having their conversation. Already slightly jittery from caffeine combined with lack of sleep, he isn’t exactly the kindest when his partner sits down. The time where Nick’s gift of pies and fresh coffee would have helped Hank feel better is over now. “Nick, we need to talk. Like now.” It’s obvious he’s completely serious and just might get violent if Nick doesn’t comply with his wishes.

 

Nick seems to understand his friend’s frustration entirely and sits down in front of him with his hands raised in a placating gesture. He turns on his computer before turning to face Hank completely; hoping and praying for a murder call that won’t come isn’t going to help his partner clear up whatever’s going wrong in his head. “Okay, okay, I’m here. Is this a _using me for a sounding board_ kind of talk, or do I have to hope I have answers for you?”

 

If he didn’t learn his lesson before the look on Hank’s face makes it painfully obvious that this is no time for jokes or games. The mirth fades from his face and his voice is serious the next time he speaks, feeling guilty once more for putting his friend through so much this past year. “Nick-” “I know. Sorry...I guess I’m taking my shitty night out on you. What’s going on?”

 

Bypassing Nick’s current dilemma, he nods, feeling a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to nag his partner or convince him this was serious as he scrubs a hand over his jaw and mouth, meeting Nick’s eyes seriously. His exhaustion, though barely physically visible, is plain to see for anyone who knows his usual habits well enough. Between the shaky hands and somewhat erratic shifting of his eyes, paranoia is obviously setting in, and he wants so badly to be sure that he can trust Nick above anyone else at the station. His lip quivers, decidedly different than caffeine jitters— it looks much more vulnerable than that, almost fragile. It’s the look of a desperate man, looking for help and loyalty from a friend. Taking a breath, he gets right on with it, starting the conversation Nick’s been dreading since the start of the year. Hell— he barely understands it himself, but it’s still Nick’s job to deal with it, one way or another.

 

“Man, I…” he hesitates, his next words rushed and honestly fearful, “I-I’ve been seeing things. Hearing them. But only— it’s not just on cases anymore. I’m not just seeing some freaky mask on a perp, or thinking that I see someone’s face almost...change in a fight.”

 

He stops again, and his partner lets him, this time with his concern in full view, but also confidence that he would be fine that he hadn’t allowed Hank to see as much of the last time he’d had an “episode” of this caliber concerning his sanity— it had been just after Adalind. His lies, his attempt at protection, had almost gotten two cops killed; both of them friends. Well, not any-fucking-more. Even if they don’t believe him, he has to tell his friends the truth.

 

“Hank, you’re not crazy,” but, at the same time, Hank speaks, “I shot into my closet door with a 12 gauge.”

 

A pause, moment of disbelief and simultaneous clarity, then: “Wait! What?” “How do you know that?” followed quickly by, “What did you think you saw?”

 

They both freeze again, Hank’s eyes returning to Nick’s face and not looking so deeply tired anymore— probably for the first time in weeks, as their raised hands drop to rest in their laps.

  
“Because I’ve seen the things you saw...probably a lot more. There are things...I’ve wanted to keep you out of, to keep you safer. _Tried_ to, but…” But it almost killed him anyway. Honestly, Nick isn’t fully sure he could admit it loud— the weight he carries. It isn’t the kind of thing normal people could handle, but according to Monroe, it was practically in his DNA. Loss, an unimaginable amount of stress, and knowledge of a likely short life we’re all supposed to be relatively easier for Grimes to handle (or so he claims). Funny. Romantic rejection isn’t on the list of things he’s supposedly impervious to.

 

Hank appears to have a relatively mixed reaction to this realization. The lies, the fear-- his friend of three years wouldn’t cause that for no reason. Cop or not, he’s a pretty tender guy, despite his emotional strength a majority of the time. He wouldn’t knowingly hurt most killers like that, let alone let a friend live under the belief that they couldn’t trust their own mind. So, either he’s being honest now, or Hank can no longer trust his usually reliable gut, even with his friends.

 

“Okay, I get that, but… what they hell is this? A weird gang with animal masks targeting you, or  what?”

 

And...here comes the tricky part: the actual explanation.

 

“Well, I’m gonna sound crazy when I say  it, but if that’s what I have to do to help you, it’s worth it.” Hank is paying rapt attention now, hanging on his every word. His mouth feels dry, but he knows, somewhere in his heart, that Hank will be safer when his safety is in his own hands.

 

“There are things you don’t know. Things about me, and my family, but the world around us too,” he isn’t quite brave enough at the moment to watch Hank’s reaction to all of this insanity. “There’s so much that I’m even still learning about whatever I can, honestly. And I can show you all of it, but we should go now.”

 

Hank looks lighter when their eyes finally meet, both of their hearts unclenching in this moment. Now, if they could just  go out and get to the trailer--

 

“Morning, guys. We’ve got a backup of witnesses now that we had a breakthrough on Anderson’s case. You’d be okay with lightening the load?” Of course, Wu comes in at the worst possible time. He sees it now, and really has for a while, but when he asked if Hank was okay and didn’t get the response he was looking for, he  let it go, for the time being. Now, he’s starting to regret that decision.

 

Nick glances quickly between them, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, we can help. Just give us a minute, okay?”

 

Wu nods, patting Hank’s shoulder briefly. He deserves a night off, and after this, he’s definitely taking him out to dinner so he can hopefully get some information out to dinner so he can hopefully get some information out of him.” Take your time; we’ve already gotten started.”

 

Hanke sighs as Drew walks away, giving Nick a serious look. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easy.” It’s not so much threatening as trying to get Nick to keep his promise. Fortunately, his friend has no intention of breaking it.

 

He shakes his head as he stands. “I know I’m not. C’mon, we’ve got some interrogating to do until then.” As Hank nods and follows him to the interrogation rooms, where current witnesses are steadily being questions and still piling up, he still somehow manages to feel at peace; maybe things won’t be the same when he learns the truth, but being crazy alone is pure torture. Even more so than the next three hours are going to be...he hopes.

 

*****

 

After the kiss, it’s true that Monroe isn’t exactly calm. It’s odd, but he’s almost equally guilty as he is glad that it happened. Unfortunately, though, he hardly had any work the next day to keep him occupied. So, over and over again, even when he was playing cello or trying to exercise or even _read_ , he couldn’t think of anything but Nick.

 

It’s like his scent or memory or something is lingering everywhere, all over the house-- the couch where they’d had countless conversations, meals at the kitchen table, phone calls at his work desk. Really, the memories of the phone calls were everywhere. And then, of course, the fateful day after he was attacked by who he could only assume was somehow related to reapers. He never was a status quo kind of guy anyway, and he was purely loyal if he considered someone a friend, or even family.

 

He huffs softly as his phone rings and shakes him out of his melancholy mood. The memories gradually slip from the front of his mind as he walks across the room to answer the call.

 

“Hello?” He answers, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Monroe, hi. I’m having a busier day than I expected at the shop...do you think you could drop by?” Of course, it’s Rosalee; he isn’t even aware enough to actually read his caller ID-- God, he really needs to pull himself together.

 

“Oh, sure! I don’t have anything to do around here and I’m kind of driving myself crazy,” he starts, already implying that he’s going to start one of his rambling speeches. “I went around the house checking that all of my clocks were tuned just right. And I swear, when the first few were wrong, I spent an hour trying to figure out why until I realized my phone hadn’t caught on that we sprang forward. Three days later, ,and the damn digital clock needed to be reset. And people think analogue clocks are dead.”

 

When he scoffs, obviously unimpressed and ready to continue on this annoyed path, Rosalee bravely cuts in with something of a fond smile in her voice. “They’ll never be completely dead; not with the way you fix clocks, anyway. Can you be over at noon?”

 

Monroe feels a little guilty for rambling but smiles in spite of himself. “Consider me there,” he agrees, and it’s hardly a minute before they’re exchanging goodbyes and he’s in the car, laughing softly at himself. He already feels better.

 

They spend the day catching up and filling out the smaller orders as they organize the shelves. Eventually, Rosalee makes lunch for them and they’re able to flip the sign to “closed” for an hour-- at least long enough to rest for a while and eat. There’s a calm silence between them, the kind that comes after a long few hours of fairly hard work. Rosalee is the first to break the silence, sitting back against the counter and taking a sip of her water.

 

“So...Nick called me. He was being really cryptic and weird until I asked what was bothering him. You know what he told me?”

 

Rosalee can’t honestly say that she feels bad watching Monroe squirm uncomfortably at the awkward switch in topic. No wonder she called him over— she’s already heard about their intimate moment from Nick himself. Talk about embarrassing, especially since he had developed a little crush on Rosalee in these past few weeks. Eventually, he manages to gather his thoughts properly enough to speak.

 

“Probably how annoyingly quickly he’s figuring out wesen are all over the city?” He tries at first, although he knows he’s been had long before he notices Rosalee’s disapproving look. “Fine...I guess if anyone deserves to know, it’s you. He told you about the kiss— or whatever that was. Didn’t he?” Suddenly he has the horrible, irrational fear that Nick hadn’t actually told her, and that he has possibly just blown the secret without even talking to Nick about it first.

 

“That’s right. I mean, he didn’t really go into details; he just said you left, and I want to know why.” No, she wasn’t normally this pushy, but she’s seen something between them ever since they met. And from what she’s learned about them in the past two months, she honestly believes that they could work as a couple. “I know it isn’t _his_ sexuality; he told me he’s pretty confident in what he likes. And if that look you’re giving me is any indication, it isn’t a problem for you, either.”

 

She isn’t wrong by any means, of course. Whether it’s due to womanly instincts, their friendship, or just being able to read the situation as a Fuschbau, she knows them both far too well already; which probably drives her far more crazy than it ever would them. Her rightness is emphasized when he shifts in his seat again and finishes off the last bite of his sandwich, nodding in defeat.

 

“Alright, fine. But everybody knows that most Blutbaden are bisexual. And sure, I like him okay...I mean, he’s probably my best friend. But he’s a Grimm. Not only would my parents disown me, but some idiot would blab about it somehow, and I’d end up getting my head chopped off and put on a burning cross on my yard. Does anyone really wanna see that happen?”

 

Honestly, Monroe’s right— no one in their right mind would want to see Nick go on a killing spree like that, no matter how calm and fair he usually is. But, to Rosalee, it feels like a cheap excuse in this moment. It’s obvious, at least to her, that they would be good together. Maybe to ease her mounting insanity, she could talk to one of their mutual Weser acquaintances. It might help.

 

“Do you think many people around here would go pissing a Grimm off like that? Besides, the Eisbibers would get word to you long before someone was able to stalk or kill you. And they love you now- they’d never pass gossip of you being around like that,” she argues, based on her own positive experiences with other Eisbibers in her line of work. Plus, they kind of kissed because of their gifts and Eisbibers in general, not that she needs to remind Monroe of that in this exact moment. This really seems like it would have happened no matter what, judging by how they act around each other now that Nick’s single. She’s heard a little about Juliette since she and Nick started spending time together after she opened the shop back up, and it sounds like having strong who could actually understand his particular brand of insanity would be good for him, both on and off-duty. Cops are hard enough to date, but cops that also happen to be Grimms? No wonder he has such a hard time.

 

Monroe doesn’t seem all that anxious, surprisingly enough. His lack of argument at the fact that he and Nick could protect each other from less friendly Wesen is what really does him in, though; that’s when Rosalee fully realises she’s won.

 

“Okay, fine...a reaper would probably right. I don’t think even a reaper would come after nick now. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to try,” he agrees more confidently than he had expected, and suddenly all his avoidance seems stupid. They rushed their first kiss, true, but after all the mock dates, the late nights, and helping each other at every turn- it’s no wonder things spiraled the way that they did. They might as well have been in a relationship, they just didn’t have some of the major benefits of one until last night.

 

Admittedly, much of their time together did happen to consist of some mutual gawking, not that they’d ever discussed it or willingly thought about it. Even on the rare occasions that Nick has caught Monroe’s eyes drifting a little too low he’s reaching for a book that has been purposely placed too high or stretching across the table for a vial of some obscure potion or weapon, or vice versa, the only thing ever exchanged between them has been the shy, slightly awkward attraction shared at the start of a new relationship.

 

“So...what are you waiting for? I really don’t see what’s-“

 

Just as she’s about to actually offer him some real advice, the shop phone next to her rings and she sighs, gently nudging his side in annoyance. “We’re not done with this. Don’t think you can outrun me, either,” she threatens in a stern voice before picking up the phone as Monroe stands to clean up the remainders of their lunch, pausing in his thoughts for a moment. Drawing off some of the courage she provides him with, he calls the very man he’s been trying to avoid all day.

 

He doesn’t see it, but as they awkwardly work out a time to meet and talk, Rosalee gets off the phone with her customer and stays hidden just around the corner, listening only slightly to the conversation before getting back to work with a fond smile. What can she say? Fuchsbaus can also be romantic and they needed a push anyways. She refuses to apologize for being the one to offer them a helping hand.

 

*****

 

Even though Hank needs these interrogations to wrap up as soon as possible, he’s not feeling as panicky as he had this morning. Sure, he still wants the truth, but he isn’t desperate for it or scared of it now that he’s talked to Nick and has been promised that he would learn what the truth actually is. Halfway through the interrogation process, Wu got called in over his radio by dispatch, apparently for some kind of brutal killing at the Deluxe. He sighs, waiting for Hank and taking down the last potential witness’ information before assigning one of his officers to handle her. Once Hank leaves the interrogation room with some actual information for Drew, his friend gives him a smile that was supposed to be more of a grimace, but he could always tell Hank’s moods and sees how much better he’s doing; he might be able to read him even better than Nick.

 

“So, you remember hearing about the bodies you weren’t called in to see last night? We don’t have much to go on for a suspect, but we have a drawing. Maybe you could go back with it and ask around the motel? She’d be kinda hard to forget.” Drew jokes drolly, making Hank smile, even if he’s more than used to the gallows humor of his friends.

 

“Yeah, we’ll handle it as soon as Nick’s done in there, don’t worry.”

 

Drew nods, rubbing the back of his neck after handing him the police sketch. “It’s not much to go on, but you’ll have something at least.”

 

“Right, at least we have a chance of finding her. Thanks, Drew,” Hank smiles, feeling good enough to accept the gentle pat to his shoulder that his friend offers as he leaves. He doesn’t think he’s crazy anymore, and he’ll have answers soon. He doesn’t have any need to be worried anymore. Thankfully, he only has to wait a few minutes before Nick is done with the last interview they actually have time for, grabbing his keys and jacket as his younger partner walks out. “We have more important work to get done, partner. Unless you wanted to keep going with the witnesses for the rest of the day?”

 

Nick laughs sarcastically, already tucking his notepad away for later use and pulling on his jacket as they head towards the exit of the station. “No way. I’m coming with you. I’m sure someone else will be more than happy filling out every aspect of another forty people’s mornings to find out who’s lying,” he scoffs, both of them rushing off before anyone else can beat them to help Drew. Finally, they get a break from their mind-numbing boredom.

 

*****

 

Despite the gruesome scene still not fully cleaned up by the motel and the lack of any sign of the woman in black or anyone who recognized her by name, Nick can tell that his partners good mood hasn’t at all been dampened. They’ve just pulled into the storage yard and Nick can see that Hank is jittery with nervous excitement instead of worry (or excess caffeine) now. Once they stop, he leads him to the trailer, letting them stop for a moment as he fishes for his keys. “You don’t have to do this right now, you know. If you wanna sit on this for a few days, it’d be fine-”

 

“Shut up. We both  know I’m gonna lose it if I don’t go in there to see...whatever it is you want me to see. I’m ready for this.” Hank’s interruption makes Nick more comfortable with all of this, and he chuckles before unlocking the trailer and leading Hank inside.

 

“Be my guest. Let it be know beforehand, though- my family has some really weird heirlooms in here.”

 

 


End file.
